


Have You Ever Heard of a Rebound?

by Etwas_Schlau



Series: Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Denial of Feelings, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pining While in a Relationship, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, but based on a song, not a songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9568358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etwas_Schlau/pseuds/Etwas_Schlau
Summary: In the cold room, hot tears sliding down her face, she felt more alone than she ever had. Not knowing where else to turn, she dug her mobile out of her pocket, dialing a number she never thought she'd call again.Prompt fill for anon 'call me billie.' Based on "Lips of an Angel" by Hinder.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Note:** I do not own Doctor Who. All rights to the show and its characters belong to the BBC.
> 
> I think I got a bit carried away here. Many thanks to call me billie for the great prompt. As it says in the summary, it's _loosely_ based on the song "Lips of an Angel" by Hinder. You can find the song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RiSfTyrvJlg) if you want but it's not necessary to the story
> 
> If you have any Doctor Who prompts, just drop a comment on any Who fic I've written. Please read the details in my profile before leaving prompts. Enjoy!

“Oi, would you give it up!?”

“You're not listening to me!”

“For the last time, Amy, River is just a friend.”

“ _Please_ , you've seen the way she constantly flirts with you.”

“That's not flirting! It's just... good-natured joshing. Just taking the piss out, you know?”

“Really? 'I'm quite the screamer' is good-natured joshing?” Amy demanded, waving her hands in an air quote motion.

“It was a joke! Quit being daft!”

“Oh, so I'm daft now!?”

“No, I'm not calling _you_ daft, I'm calling _this_ -”

“See? Right now, you're treating me like I'm a child.”

“Amy, I-” John stopped mid-sentence, sighing deeply and staring at the floor as if contemplating something. “I'm tired of this. The fighting, the temper tantrums, the jealousy... I can't do it anymore.”

“Well maybe we shouldn't.” Amy retorted, crossing her arms.

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

A long pause ensued as their words sank in. After a moment, John began to shuffle awkwardly, eying his shoes. “So, that's it? We just... broke up?”

“I guess we did.” The ginger's voice was sharp and unfeeling, refusing to meet John's eyes.

“I suppose I'll go, then,” he announced, tone somber and posture apologetic.

“Brilliant. Go home to your girlfriend, River.”

Rage blossomed in the man's eyes and he snatched his tweed jacket from a chair, storming past Amy. Striding out of the flat, he slammed the door behind himself, shaking the old building to it's core and leaving the woman alone to break apart.

**~*~**

Amy felt her heart pounding in her chest as she threaded her fingers through Rory's. The man's eyebrows shot skyward, eyes wide and lips parted.

“A-Amy, what're you-?”

She silenced him with a finger pressed to his mouth, smirking cheekily. The pair strolled down the street, turning a corner as they walked together. Glancing ahead, Amy's eyes widened as she caught sight of John and River exiting the nearby park, laughing cheerfully. River leaned in for a kiss, fleetingly threading her fingers through his hair.

The Scottish woman could feel fury rising in her veins. It had been less than a fortnight since they had broken up and John had only just collected the last of his things from Amy's flat two days prior. From the way the couple easily held hands and kissed without tension, it was obvious they had been together for some time already. She had been right about River's feelings all along, but being right had never felt so wrong.

“Amy? You alright?” Rory asked, concerned, squeezing her hand.

“Oh, nothing. Just,” she paused to clear her throat, garnering the other couple's attention from the other side of the street. “Happy to be here.” Without warning, she lunged forward to press her lips against Rory's, snogging him deeply knowing that John was watching. The blond was clearly inexperienced, clumsily going along with the kiss.

Amy pulled away after a bit, playfully rolling her eyes at Rory's dumbfounded expression. Eyes flickering toward John, she grinned to see his face contorted in anger. Or maybe it was jealousy. Either way, the ginger woman was satisfied to have elicited a response from him and strode onward with Rory in tow.

**~*~**

Idly scrolling through Instagram on her mobile, Amy froze as she caught sight of a picture posted by John. It showed a pair of hands clasped together over a table, clearly his and River's, with two identical silver keys resting by their wrists. The caption read, “moving in together” followed by an obscene number of hearts and kissy-face emoticons.

She wasn't sure why the image enraged her so. She had obviously moved on from John; Rory had just formally asked her to be his girlfriend the day before. (She had assumed they were already officially together, but Rory's shy 'will you be my girlfriend' speech had been rather cute, regardless.) _Well,_ she rationalized, _it does seem a bit early to be moving in together..._ Amy nodded curtly to herself. That was definitely it, she just thought it was too soon. That explained her anger, right?

_Or maybe you're angry that he got over you so quick while you're still hung up on him,_ a dark part of her mind pointed out. She shook her head in a futile effort to brush those thoughts away.  _No way, I'm with Rory now, John is the last thing on my mind!_

Closing out of the app, Amy tapped on her phone contact list, calling Rory's number. He picked up after a few rings.

“Hey, Amy, I'm really busy, can't talk right now,” the man's voice came, sounding rushed and distracted.

“It'll be quick, I promise. What time do you get off work tonight?”

“Erm, eight. Why?”

Amy paused for a quick moment, unsure of what she was doing. “Do you want to go out tonight?” she blurted.

“Sure. What brought this on?”

“Oh, nothing. Just want to see you.”

“We see each other every day, Amy,” Rory chided with an amused laugh/ 

“Well, you deserve a nice dinner after a hard day at work, right?” she choked out, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment. 

“Speaking of work, I really need to get back to it. See you tonight, babe.”

“Bye.” Amy ended the call and threw her mobile at the sofa. She felt daft for going out just to prove to herself she was over John, but time spent with Rory was time well-spent. 

Right?

** ~*~ **

Amy's jaw was practically on the floor. She blinked, nonplussed.

“Amy? Are you okay?” Rory asked. “If you don't want to, that's okay. I completely understand if you-”

“No, no, no! I want to!”

“You do?”

Amy smiled shakily, hoping she didn't look as unsure as she felt. “I do. I want to.”

“We're doing this?” Rory asked, a smile slowly overtaking his features. “This is happening?”

“Yeah,” she whispered in reply, scarcely able to comprehend what she had just agreed to. “It is.”

“We're moving in together...” the blond breathed. “Wow. I can't believe this is is actually happening for us.”

Amy grinned, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. “Neither can I,” she replied, a sour sensation in her stomach telling her Rory's shock was an entirely different kind of disbelief. She pushed the feelings down, however, leaning in for a chaste kiss and a tight hug.

“Amy Pond and Rory Williams in _their_ flat,” he quipped, chuckling breathlessly.

“Yeah. Their flat.”

**~*~**

Amy fought back the tears welling in her eyes, but resistance was useless. Her cheeks were suddenly wet, her frame shaking and shuddering. She locked the door to the loo where she was standing, burying her face in her hands.

There was a heavy pounding on the door. “Amy, come on, don't be like that. Let me in.”

She couldn't even muster a response through her tears, grabbing a flannel from the cupboard to muffle her quiet sobs. She didn't want to give Rory the satisfaction of hearing how much his words had hurt.

“Fine, whatever! Be like that, sour as always!”

Closing the lid of the toilet, Amy sat down, feeling daft and childish. It had been quite a while since she'd cried and she wasn't quite sure why she was now. Rory's insults shouldn't have hurt as much as they did, but she couldn't help the sting in her heart.

In the cold room, hot tears sliding down her face, she felt more alone than she ever had. Not knowing where else to turn, she dug her mobile out of her pocket, dialing a number she never thought she'd call again.

It rang several times. After the sixth tone, she began to lose hope. She felt completely barmy for thinking he'd pick up in the first place, let alone at half three in the bloody morning. He'd probably removed her number from his mobile-

“Amy?”

She was shocked and slightly startled by the voice, low and hoarse with sleep. The surprise didn't last long, however, sorrow flooding her as she remembered why she'd called. “J-John,” she stuttered, unsure what to say after months of separation.

There was a quiet shuffling from the other end of the line. “Amy, are you crying?”

“Maybe,” she muttered morosely, sniffling.

“What's wrong? What's happened?”

“Rory and I got in a fight. I know I shouldn't have called you about this but I didn't have anyone else to turn to. I can't even go home because we live together now! I have nowhere to go and I know I sound like a massive wanker but I-”

“Amy, Amy, stop it. You're not a wanker. We may have broken up, but I'm still here for you if you need me. Tell me what happened.”

“I made a joke about his mum and he lost it. He called me cold and bitter and said he wished he'd never met me. Told me he's sick of how I never listen to him and think I'm better than everyone else. I don't even know what caused it! He must've already been mad at me because the joke wasn't even that bad.”

“What was the joke?”

“He told me his mum was trying to be friends with her ex-husband and I said that was like a kidnapper asking their hostage to keep in touch after letting them go.”

John laughed a loud, deep laugh that temporarily filled the empty cavity in Amy's chest. “That woman's a chav and everyone knows it.”

“Well, you'd better not tell that to Rory,” she hissed, trying to will her tears away.

“Are you alright?” John asked, his voice suddenly low and serious. “You never cry like this.”

“I know, I know...” she muttered, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper. “I don't know what's got into me. Normally things like this don't bother me at all, but,” she paused, choking back an involuntary hiccup. “I don't know. Today was different.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Just talk.”

“About what?”

“Anything. What you did today, the last film you saw, I don't care.”

“Well, this morning I had beans on toast for breakfast. I watched some telly, watered the plants, worked on a drone I'm building, grabbed some chips.”

“You're building a drone?”

“Yeah!” John's excitement was palpable in his voice and it was almost calming. “I figured it was silly to buy one when I could do it myself. I had to to pick up some parts, though. It's actually coming along rather nicely so far.”

“That's rare with things you build.”

“Oi! I built you that kettle!”

“That _exploded_ ,” she reminded him, easily bantering like they used to.

“That wasn't my fault! You shouldn't have put so much water in it.”

“That's what you _do_ with a kettle! It's supposed to boil water!”

“Well, not that much water...”

There was a long pause but it was comfortable. “You're not crying anymore,” John noted, a hint of pride lacing his words.

“You're right,” Amy replied, sighing lightly. “John, I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“For treating like I do. Breaking up with you and trying to make you jealous and all that. And now asking you to comfort me after ignoring you for months... I'm sorry.”

“Amy, it's okay. Remember, no matter what happens between us, I'll always be here for you. Alright?”

“Alright.” Amy contemplated hanging up at that point, but she didn't yet want to face Rory. “How's River?”

She could practically hear John's jaw drop. “You, you really want to talk about her? After... _you know_.”

“I really do. I might not like her, but you do.”

“Well, erm, she's good. She took a few days off work last week. We went to the beach, headed to a nice museum about the moon landing. It was fun.”

“Good. Wait, speaking of River, does she know you're talking to me right now?”

“No, she's asleep in the next room.”

“Why aren't you with her?” she asked with furrowed brows, despite the way thinking of them in bed together made her stomach turn.

“Apparently I snore. Often. She's made me sleep in the lounge.”

“You do snore, you know.”

“What? Why didn't you say anything about it when we were dating?” Amy swore John faltered for a split second before saying 'dating' but she didn't dwell on it.

“Because I didn't mind it. It was something like background noise. Helped me sleep, some nights.”

John chuckled quietly, sighing. “I really should get back to sleep. Have things to do tomorrow.”

Amy felt a pang of sorrow at his words, but she knew she'd have to face reality sooner or later. “Yeah, I suppose you're right.”

“Good-”

“Wait, John,” she interrupted, anxiously twirling a lock of her ginger hair around her finger. “Do you think, maybe, we could talk like this again sometime?”

“Of course. I'll always be here.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Good night, Amelia.” She smiled at hearing him use that name.

“Good night, John.”

**~*~**

“So, how've you been?”

“Great, actually. I finished my drone today!”

“How is it? Any explosions yet?”

“No, there haven't been any explosions. It flies perfectly and everything. I've been trying to attach a camera to it. Make it into a spy drone!”

“What do you need a spy drone for? Top secret Torchwood missions?”

“Hey, I told you that in confidence!”

“I'm talking to _you_! We're still the only ones who know, you git!”

“Oi, be nice!”

“So, do anything fun recently?”

“Well, I discovered this nice new restaurant called Demons Run. They have the greatest fish fingers.”

“And the custard?”

“Splendid as well.”

“Oh, I heard you took a trip to Germany?”

“I did indeed. River wanted to see Berlin, so to Berlin we went.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Well, the locals were a bit harsh, but we had a nice time.”

“You two seem to take quite a lot of holidays.”

“Well, with River being an archaeologist, she gets a lot of time off. In fact, we're planning a trip to America soon.”

“Really? Where are you headed?”

“Utah! We're going to see a place called Lake Silencio.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Oh, it will be! And if we have enough time, we're also going to see New York. Manhattan, to be specific.”

“You're lucky to have a chance to travel like that. Any chance I can tag along in your baggage?”

“I don't think River would like that.”

“Why?”

“Well, I don't think she quite fancies you...”

“But we hardly know each other!”

“I think she sees you as, er, competition.”

“We're more alike than she realizes, then.”

“Anyway, what about you? What has the indomitable Amy Pond been doing?”

“Not much, really. The highlight of my week was watching some sci-fi movie about cyborg cowboys.”

“That sound great. What's it called?”

“I don't remember, but I know the town in the movie was called Mercy.”

“I'll have to look for it when I get the chance.”

“It's getting late, I probably should get back to bed.”

“I suppose. Talk to you again next week?”

“You know it.”

“Good night, Amelia.”

“Good night, John.”

**~*~**

“Amelia Jessica Pond, will you marry me?”

Amy felt the breath slip from her lungs. Time felt as if it has stopped, her heart pounding sporadically in her chest.

“I- what?”

Rory faltered, his brows knitting together in confusion. “I said, will you marry me?” he repeated, glancing around at the crowd of diners in the restaurant, countless pairs of eyes on them.

Amy's mind was racing. Marriage? She wasn't ready for that. _Not with Rory,_ _at least..._ she thought before instantly despising herself for thinking it. One thing _was_ true, however. She didn't want to marry Rory. Saying yes now, no matter how happy things might be, would only make it harder to break things off later.

Wait. What?

A multitude of things became clear in Amy's thoughts at once. She had never really wanted a relationship with Rory, had never wanted it to go anywhere. She just wanted the hurt of splitting up with John to go away. After everything, though, the hurt wasn't gone. It was still there, bubbling under the surface, no matter how hard she tried to be nothing more than friends with him. Friends didn't call each other in the wee hours of the night behind their significant others' backs to chat.

After the petty revenge-seeking phase had faded, she had felt something of an obligation to be happy with Rory because John was happy with River. Things didn't work that way, however. Even if John and River got married, had children, and lived happily ever after, (a thought that still made Amy feel nauseous,) she didn't have to suffer through a sham relationship she didn't really want. The Scottish woman steeled her confidence and returned to reality where an increasingly desperate-looking Rory was staring up at her in worry and fear.

“No,” Amy finally responded. The blond man's face fell, nonplussed.

“What? N-no?”

“No, Rory. I won't marry you.” Without warning, she was gone from the dining room and the restaurant.

**~*~**

Amy collapsed onto the sofa of her new flat, exhausted. Checking her mobile, she saw an unread text from Rory and unlocked her phone to see it. _im removing your number from my phone_ it read. She sighed, resting her head on a cushion and drifting to sleep.

She was rudely startled awake a few hours later by the deafening ring of her phone. In the dark, she blindly patted the couch until she found the device, lifting it to her ear.

“Hello?” she answered, mind still foggy from sleep.

“Amy. I was waiting for you to call but you never did,” John's voice replied, worry clouding his tone. She had forgotten it was that time of the week already.

“Oh, sorry. The past few days have been...” she let out a loud exhale as she searched for a word. “ _busy_.”

“Busy how?”

For a moment, Amy contemplated whether or not to tell him what had happened. She decided quickly, however, that there was no way John would know that she said no to Rory because of him. “Rory and I split up.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“He proposed. I said no. It's a bit hard to bounce back from that,” she quipped, grinning.

“He... he proposed?”

“Yup.”

“But you said no.”

“Mhmm.”

“Amy, why did you say no?” John's voice was low and quiet. Scarily quiet. From experience, Amy knew it was a never a good sign when his voice did that. The calm before the oncoming storm, she'd used to call it.

“I don't know, really. I just didn't want to get married to him,” she lied, hoping he wouldn't push further than that.

“Amy.” His tone was firm and even, yet clearly holding back.

“What?”

“Why. Why did you say no?”

“I just told you.”

“The truth.”

“That _is_ the truth!”

“Don't lie to me, Amy.”

“I'm not!” Amy knew she couldn't tell him the truth. She wouldn't. It would destroy their friendship and possibly John's relationship with River. She wouldn't do that to John. She couldn't bear it.

“Amelia.”

“I told you the truth, John,” she replied softly, her eyes sliding shut as she silently begged him to accept the lie.

The line went dead.

**~*~**

There was a knock on her door. Amy raised an eyebrow. It was seven in the morning. Who even knew her new address? She peered in the mirror on the wall, seeing smeared mascara and puffy eyes. She knew crying wouldn't solve anything, but she had anyway. The zombie-like numbness she currently felt was somehow better than suffering.

Grabbing a flannel from the kitchen counter, Amy ran some water on it and quickly cleaned her face, ignoring the repeated knocks from the stranger outside her door. Whoever it was could wait for her to be at least somewhat presentable.

Tossing the dirty cloth in the sink, she padded to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. She was dumbfounded to see John standing outside, looking unkempt and exhausted. For a moment she couldn't speak.

“John,” she breathed. “How did you find me?”

“I got your address from Rory. Can I come in?”

Amy nodded mutely, gesturing inside. As he stepped before the lounge window, weak morning sunlight illuminating his face, Amy noticed a suspiciously hand-shaped welt along his jawline.

“What happened to your face?” she asked in concern, reaching up to run a hand along his bruised cheek.

“That,” he began, resting a hand atop hers, “would be the handiwork of River Song.”

“Oh my God, what happened?”

John didn't reply until he had caught Amy's hazel brown eyes with his own. “She didn't take to being dumped very well,” he said, voice soft and words clearly enunciated.

“You dumped her!?” she exclaimed in surprise. She felt the conversation instantly get immeasurably tense. Her heart was suddenly beating out of her chest with excitement and terror. “Why?” she asked despite thinking, no, _hoping_ , she knew the reason.

The hand on top of Amy's tightened around her. “Why did you say no to Rory?”

“Because I didn't love him,” she admitted.

John quirked an eyebrow. “Then why were you with him?”

Amy breathed out a shaky laugh. “Have you ever heard of a rebound?”

“Heard of one?” he began, his free hand settling on Amy's waist. “I just broke up with one.”

Lips were suddenly on lips, hands cradling and holding tight. John's arms slithered around Amy's midsection as her hands fisted the back of his jacket. Warmth, joy, and relief exploded in Amy's chest like fireworks and she pulled away grinning like an idiot with tears in her eyes.

“I'm hoping those are happy tears,” John poked, smiling wide.

“Oh, these are bloody ecstatic tears, John.”

“I've missed you so much,” he whispered, squeezing her with his arms and burying his face into her shoulder.

“Me too.”

“I love you, Amelia.”

“I love you too, John.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The divorce joke is not my creation. It's based on a joke from Twitter.


End file.
